


The Girl With Golden Hair

by Try_To_Art



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Anxiety Attacks, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Healing, Identity Issues, Kidnapping, Mutilation, Past Rape/Non-con, Personal Growth, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Scars, Self-Defense, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24955945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Try_To_Art/pseuds/Try_To_Art
Summary: A girl from the Earth Kingdom is cursed with golden hair and power she never wanted... A power she feared. With the help of Zuko, Iroh, and the Gaang, Iyumi will confront her power, her fear, and her past.Iyumi: 20       Zuko: 21      Iroh: 57    Aang: 17    Katara: 19    Sokka: 20     Toph: 17     Azula: 19      Suki: 21
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 17





	1. The Girl With The Golden Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I really hope you enjoy this short story! This takes place 5 years after the original story, and 3 years after “The Search”. I am going to try to keep it as accurate as possible, while still adding in my character’s own story and how she interacts with the original “gaang”. I am not too sure if this will be a one time post or if more will come. So tell me what you think!!
> 
> Much love <3  
> \--Try To Art--

The air had a cold chill to it. It ripped through the frail girl’s tattered clothes, causing her to violently shake as she laid against the trunk of a mighty tree. So tall and proud the tree stood, barely shifting with the breeze. But so small and afraid the girl sat, sinking deeper into the cold. Six years had she fought the cold, dark alone, and six years had she hoped to die. But death was not her destiny. Death was not her friend. Though she longed for the sweet embrace of that melancholy slumber, she knew her story had yet to begin. In all her years out in the wilderness, away from her home, she grew more distant from herself. Who she used to be. 

She recalled the busy streets of her village. The hustle and bustle of trade and sales. She could still smell the fresh aromas from the spices in passing carts, the salty sea air coming from the fishermen returning home, and the dumplings her mother used to make. She recalled those fleeting moments where the world would pass from her as she stared out the window, day by day. Stuck in the same house. Stuck in the same room. Stuck at the same window. Stuck in the same world consumed by fear and fire.

The young adult closed her eyes and sighed. “Just a few more minutes, Iyumi,” she told herself. “Just a few more minutes, then you will rise once more.” How many times she told herself that lie. How many times she uttered that damned phrase, knowing that her strength was failing day by day. Before, she was able to climb the tall swaying trees to get a subtle taste of the fruit they bore. But now she was too weak to even stand. Before, she was able to collect small berries from the bushes, but the winter frost had taken their lives. Before, she could spear a fish or snare a meadow vole. But years of abuse, theft, and neglect had left her with no tools left to hunt. 

Her stomach growled with a deep passion, begging its owner for a morsel of food. But she could only reach down to the dirtied puddle beside her to drink. She would cup one hand, dipping it into the water, and slowly bring it to her parched lips. The taste was terrible, filled with dirt and salt, but it was better than nothing. One cup, then two, then rest.

She ran her hand down her shoulder and to her elbow, feeling the thick ridges of old scars. She chuckled to herself. “Iyumi, you were such an idiot…” She felt her stomach rumble as it started to cave in on itself. “And I guess nothing has changed…” She placed one palm down into the soft earth, pushing herself up back onto the trunk of the tree. She winced as her back straightened and her abdomen stretched. She could feel the fresh wound begin to open back up as the skin pulled apart. Blood once again began to seep into her clothes. She looked down at the wound and pulled the cloth from it. She quietly cried out as scabbed skin came with the cloth, pulling from the gaping hole. Her once green top now was a dark rusty red, stained by years of struggle. Tears began to well up in her eyes. She knew one more day without food or medicine, and she’d be a goner. Anger began to swell up inside her as she recalled more and more from her past. Her face grew red and hot as the tears flowed down her hollow cheeks. All the mistakes she made, all the pain she had endured. It was all her fault.

“I hate you…” she whimpered. Her breath grew heavier as her arms and legs began to shake. Her eyes glowed in red hot anger and she clenched her side. She recalled those men who attacked her. All she wanted was food, water. She was willing to trade all she had made for one apple. But no… She pushed the memory away, trying to forget, to move on. Her body shook with more passion the more she tried to push that memory away. But push one away, another will resurface. Memory after memory thought after thought, she fought to shove them to the deepest recesses of her mind. She then realized then that wasn’t shaking from the cold anymore, but from the pure rage coursing through her veins. She felt the whole world closing in on her. The trees of the forest grew ever taller, looming overhead, and the cold air, filling her lungs with each meaningless breath. She closed her eyes and doubled over her knees, her arms wrapped around her stomach. “I fucking hate you!” 

In those six years, Iyumi had not had one decent conversation with another human being. She would occasionally beg or trade for food from travelers she met on her journey, but as a whole, she chose to stay alone. “It’s better this way,” she would tell herself, though loneliness tore her apart. In those six years, Iyumi tried to hide from the world, though she was only trying to hide from herself. Iyumi saw herself as a monster, a human cursed with a gift she never wanted. But she ran from that side of herself, daring not to admit who or what she was. In her mind, the Fire Nation was to blame. They took her father, her home, and eventually, her identity. She lost herself in the fear of fire and dared not stay in that world. But in doing so, she never learned of the Hundred Year War’s end. In those six years alone, Iyumi continued to believe that the Fire Nation was out for the world, out for her. They were people to be feared and hated. In her mind, the world was burning, and she was helpless to it. They are the reason why she left home. Fire was the destroyer of her world, and she was born in its ashes. 

As her tears dried and she got hold of her breath, she looked down at that murky puddle by her side. She saw that her once vibrant green eyes had now become an iced-over olive, void of life. She searched for a ray of hope or reassurance but was only met with the eyes of a broken, fearful girl. She studied her face in the distorted reflection, staring in shock at how dark her under eyes were, how pale her lips were, and how hollow her cheeks had become. Nearly a week without food had made her appearance so decrepit, and nearly six years without love made her empty on the inside. But as she continued to study her new face, she sighed in sorrow at the one thing that hadn’t changed; a scar running from the top of her forehead, down her eye, and onto her right cheek remained as red and prominent as ever. She studied that haunting reflection for what seemed like hours, but then something new appeared in the murky mirror. A bundle of brilliant golden hair came untucked from her head wrap, perfectly falling over the scar line that covered her eye. 

With one quick motion, she twisted the hair into her fingers and pulled out that damned bundle. The chord of spun gold ripped from her scalp, bringing a dapple of blood with it. That chunk of yellow hair, intertwined into her fingers, reflected ever so lightly in the dappling sunlight. For something she despised, something that defined who she thought she was, she found it beautiful. Strand by strand, the hair fell from her fingertips and into that same cold air, flying away like dandelions in the wind.  
She closed her eyes one last time, humming an old tune her mother and father sang when she was afraid. And as the sun began to shine more brightly through the canopy of branches, her hums turned into words.

“Leaves from the vine, falling so slow…” she sat back up against the trunk of the tree, the weight of her head held by its strong body, “Like fragile, tiny shells, drifting in the foam…” she ran her fingers across the scar on her face. “Little soldier boy, come marching home…” Tears mercilessly welcomed themselves back into her eyes, further clouding her vision and her thoughts. “Brave soldier boy…” Her throat began to tighten and close, making the last few words nearly impossible to sing. “... comes marching home…”


	2. The Old Man With Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new, kind face meets Iyumi and offers her help, good advice, and a little tea.

Iyumi laid there, tears falling from her tired eyes. The light within her had finally faded. She was no longer afraid, cold, tired, or hungry. She was numb, like the scars that covered her body. 

Iyumi drifted off into a deep sleep, embraced by the earth and the cold. But something awoke her. A sharp snapping of a branch. Two branches. Three. Someone was coming. Usually, she would flee up into the trees, but time had been cruel to her, and she was too weak to stand. The figure drew closer and closer, and she could barely make out a silhouette. 

A soft “Hello there?” echoed in her ears. As the shadow finally stood in front of her, she could make out the plump form of an older gentleman holding a basket with a straw hat on top of his head.

“My goodness child, are you alright?” The older man asked. He swiftly removed his hat as he put down his basket. But Iyumi didn’t answer, paralyzed in fear. She could feel a heat starting to course through her body, an instinct ready to take over. 

The man crouched down next to her, “Young lady, can you hear me?” He put the back of his hand to her head, his face growing in concern. “My dear, you’re burning up. Here,” he reached into his small wicker basket and pulled out some herbs, “let me make you some tea.”

Iyumi’s heart began to beat faster and faster. She had no idea what this man’s intentions were. No one had spoken any word to her, let alone a kind one, in years. What was he trying to get from her? What was he trying to do? As the man pulled a tea kettle from his bag, he looked back and saw the fear in the young adult's eyes. He slowly and calmly put his supplies down before stepping back to give her room. Her breath was short and quick as she laid there helpless. The old man sighed in sorrow for the young girl, scanning her to find out what state she was in. He saw the fresh blood seeping from her side, and he ripped a strip off the hem of his robe off. Slowly, he knelt back down next to the girl, trying not to frighten her. 

In a soft voice, the stranger said “You’ve been through a lot, my child… But I promise you this,” he began to wrap the cloth around her side, “no harm will come to you as long as I am here.” He took a short pause, trying to find some reassurance for the young adult. “My name is Iroh. May I know yours?”

Iyumi took a deep, shaky breath, trying to find the courage to answer this man. “I-it’s… Iyumi.” She observed the man further. His eyes were old and full of wisdom, but they were also soft and filled with kindness. His cheeks were rosy, and his smile was warm. He wore a green robe over his pants, and his straw hat was now held around his neck by a string, laying on this back. 

The old man smiled softly. “Iyumi, what a beautiful name for a beautiful young lady. I have never heard that one before.”

Iyumi shyly looked away, “My mother came up with it…” she answered quietly.  
Iroh chuckled to himself. “Interesting. And where are you from?”

Iyumi sighed and turned her back to the man, her shoulder resting on that same tree. “Nowhere.” Iyumi emotionlessly stated.

The kind man laughed heartily, “Oh come, child, no one comes from nowhere!” 

Shame filled Iyumi. “But I am no one…”

Iroh stroked his beard, looking down at this girl. “Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” He picked his kettle back up as he journeyed a few paces over to a small puddle, one bigger and cleaner than the one she sat by. He filled it as he looked back at the girl. “Let’s see. Your clothes are green, tan, and brown. So that tells me the Earth Kingdom.” He chuckled, “But you can get clothes from anywhere. So that’s not much of a clue.” The girl looked over her shoulder to acknowledge him. “But your eyes are also green, which still tells me Earth Kingdom. Am I right?” She wearily nodded as he sat back down next to her, mixing together leaves and herbs and placing them in the pot. “Yet your spirit, that warmth and passion I see deep inside you,” he put the kettle down on a small pile of twigs, “that tells me fire.” He held up a single finger and a tiny flame, like that of candlelight, dancing across the fingertip. But as the soft glow of the ember filled her vision, Iyumi screamed out in fear. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” She struggled back and away from the trunk of the tree, the only thing holding her up. She fell onto her back with a hard thud, kicking and shouting as the old man’s eyes grew in concern. 

“You’re Fire Nation! Get away from me!” Iyumi screamed. Her vocal cords ripping in sheer panic. Iroh stood up and stepped back in confusion. 

“My child, I meant you no ill will. The Fire Nation means no harm to you” He came towards her to help her up. But Iyumi only struggled more.

“I said stay away!” Heat filled her veins, and she could feel the fire of fear and anger in her. But Iroh, resilient as he was wise, was determined to help. He raced to her side and grabbed her shoulder to sit her up. But as he touched her skin, he yelped and let go in pain. Her skin was boiling hot, radiating heat at an alarming level. 

“Iyumi, you need to calm down!” He shouted in desperation. He saw the pain and fear in her, and felt helpless but to stand back and watch. Then Iyumi let out one last scream, her voice tearing through the trees. Flames manifested around her, shooting out from her core, creating a protective circle. Iroh bent the flames away in one quick wave of his hand. Yet he stood there amazed at the young adult.

“Iyumi... “ he watched the young girl as the flames slowly began to die down, “You are fire bender...” Iyumi shot up in rage.

“I am not! I am not such a thing! I am not and have been born of fire!” In the struggle to get away from Iroh, her head wrap had come loose, and her golden hair fell down into her face. Iroh could only stand and look down at this pitiful, frightened girl. She sobbed as she tried to scoot further away.

“Please, I mean no disrespect to you. Please, just kill me fast. I can’t take this earth much longer.” But Iroh did not answer. He was at a loss for words. The rage only grew in Iyumi, “If you’re going to kill me just do it! Get it over with! I want to die! There, I fucking said it. I am ready to die!” her voice died down as the last of her energy faded. With a small breath and a shaky tone, she squeaked, “so just do it already” 

Iroh began to tear up ever so slightly. He had seen such anguish before, in a young man similar in age to her. A young man with a similar facial scar, and just as many emotional ones. This girl, Iyumi, reminded Iroh of his nephew, Prince Zuko. 

Iroh walked over to the girl, as she winced to brace herself for impact. But he knelt down to sit her up and guide her back to the tree. Her body and mind were weak, and she had no more energy left to fight or protest.

“Iyumi, I would never kill you…” Thoughts flooded the wise man’s mind as he searched for the right words to say. “Just how long have you been out here?” Iyumi shook with each breath, but she did her best to respond. 

“Six years…” Iroh closed his eyes and bowed his head, pain filling his heart in sympathy for this young girl.

“Young miss, the Hundred Year War ended five years ago…” Iyumi’s eyes widened in shock. Her eyes looked into Iroh’s searching for answers or an explanation. 

“What… what do you mean Iroh?”

“Have you truly been alone for this whole time?... Oh, Iyumi,” he brushed the golden hair from her face, “I can’t imagine all you have suffered.” He took her hands in his, feeling the rough surface of burn scars spreading from finger to finger. “Did you cause these scars on your body?” Iyumi’s heart ached. She hadn’t been touched so kindly or so gently in years. She weakly shook her head yes.

“They were accidents.. The others are from…” hesitation filled her voice as she tried to push away the memories, “bad people.” Iroh picked up his kettle that she knocked over in her struggle to escape and set it back up. He looked over to her and asked if it were okay to light a fire to make tea. She hesitated but gave permission. Her mouth longed for something that didn’t taste of earth and salt. Iyumi sat there in silence, as both tried to find a way to ask the right words. Iroh spoke first, 

“My dear, you have missed much in this world,” he chuckled as a small smile spread across his face, “and it seems the world has missed much of you.” Iroh pulled out a cup and poured the tea into it. “You are as unique as a white lotus flower, Iyumi, and as radiant as one too.” He knelt down next to her as he helped her tilt her head back for a drink. Iyumi finished her sip as he continued to talk. “I am sure you have many questions, just as many as I do. But we will discuss that another time.” Iyumi bit the inside of her cheek, tasting the saltiness of her blood. Iyumi longed to know what had happened to the world in her absence, she craved to know of her mother, her village, the whole world. But her body wouldn't allow it. And just as Iyumi had questions about the world, Iroh had questions about the girl. But, as he said, he knew those questions could wait. What was most important was getting this girl to safety. Iyumi mustered the energy to say a few words.

“Iroh, I am so sorry... I-” but she was cut off by the man.

“Do not apologize, my child. The world has been cruel to you, but no more.” Iroh gathered up his things and put them on his back before putting his straw hat back on. “I promise, you and I will have our questions answered soon. But now, rest.” But Iyumi didn’t want to listen. She was restless as she watched him gather his things. She grabbed his pant leg, clenching it with the little strength she had left. 

“Please Iroh, don’t leave.” She began to sniffle as she looked up at him, the glow of the setting sun illuminating his face. She was terrified for him to leave, for her to be alone again. “I can’t be alone… not again.” After having a taste of human love and interaction after years of solitude, Iyumi was terrified to lose it. But Iroh knelt down next to her, running his thumb along her cheek caringly as a father would.

“Iyumi, you won't be left alone or forgotten. I have a wagon with an ostrich horse that can carry you to safety. I am too old to do this alone, and you are too weak to walk. Please,” her hand grew tighter around his pant leg, “stay here and wait. I will be back for you.” Iyumi was hesitant, scared. But as she looked into his deep amber eyes, she knew she could trust him... 

So she watched her new friend walk off into the distance, his figure becoming yet another silhouette. And as he faded, so did the sun. Day turned to night, and for once in a long time, she wasn’t left in the cold. The fire he built for the tea kept going, and it kept her warm. She closed her eyes as she drifted off to sleep, grateful for the old man with tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are liking this! Tell me anything you want to see or know about Iyumi! I have a lot planned for her, so stay tuned for a few more chapters!
> 
> Love love love <3  
> \--Try To Art--


	3. A Journey To the Fire Nation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iyumi wakes to her new friend by her side as they journey to the Fire Nation

Iyumi woke to the soft rumble of a wagon, feeling the earth slightly shift and move as the trees swayed along past the moving cart. Her head was fogged in confusion, not knowing where she was or who she was with. But once glance over, and she saw the old man that made her tea, Iroh, off in a deep sleep. His head tilted back, snoring as loudly as the ostrich horse squawked. Relief washed over her before fear could set in, and she softly smiled knowing she was out of the woods. She was no longer propped up by that old, wise tree in the forest, but rather by soft cloth-covered hay that gave aid to her aching back and neck. She allowed herself to fall deeper into the plush straw, giving it all of her weight and strength. As she looked around more, she saw that the cart they traveled in was being driven by someone else, a stranger she had never met before. But who they were didn’t matter to Iyumi, what mattered to her was that she was finally safe, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief as she sat by her newfound friend. She ritualistically ran her course hand over the scar on her face, letting the fingertips dance over the undulating ridges. The scar, a perfect reminder of the years spent away from home, a reminder of who she was, and a reminder of what a cruel place the world can be.

Her hand fell from her face down to her side where the open wound sat. She noticed that the wound was dressed, a white band wrapping around her waist and shoulder to secure it. As a whole, it felt better. She couldn’t feel the skin open and close at her side with each breath. No longer did her clothes stick to the healed scabs that would be torn away by another day's trials. She could shift and sit up without wincing, and she could take a full breath without gasping. 

Right around that time, the old man began to stir, his head heavily wobbling back and forth as his eyelids began to open. He sheepishly rubbed on eye and began to stretch, scratching his back and smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Iyumi watched as he looked over to her, warmly smiling as he opened his mouth to talk.

“I hope that you slept well,” Iyumi shook her head yes as the slouched man straightened his back against the side of the cart. He chuckled slightly before his response. “Well I’d hope so, you’ve been out for three days now.” Iyumi’s eyes widened in shock.

“Three days?!” Iroh laughed as he looked at the young woman. 

“Oooohhh yeah,” he expressed as he shifted towards her. “Three whole days, dear lotus.” Iyumi had a hard time believing it, and Iroh could see that on her face. “Trust me, my dear, if I could have woken you up, I would have. Loading you onto the cart was a little difficult.” Iyumi’s face grew red in embarrassment.

“I-... I’m sorry Iroh… I didn’t know I was that heavy…” Iroh scrambled in his seat as he stumbled over his next few sentences, trying to correct what he just said.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no Iyumi! I wasn’t saying you were heavy, no, no. I was just saying that I had a hard time getting you in! Bu-but not because of your size! Because of how weak you were- not that you are a weak person-” Iyumi giggled as she watched his frustration in himself grew. “I was just scared to hurt you further. You are so beautiful and small- BUT NOT TOO SMALL- you are just perfect, my dear. Radiant as ever!” Iroh cheesily smiled as he nervously laughed his mistake away. “It is never my intention to disrespect such a fine young lady, especially one of your stature.” Iyumi smiled at him. 

“It’s okay Iroh, I know you meant no disrespect.” The old man rubbed the back of his head and let out a quick “ha” before continuing on. 

“If you thought that was bad, you should hear my nephew around girls. He’s a nice young man, don’t get me wrong. But he…” he paused to find the right words, “struggles.” Iyumi softly giggled, trying not to move the wound on her side too much. 

“Well, if he’s half as nice as you are, I’m sure he can’t be that bad.” Iroh chuckled before looking around at the world. He took a deep breath in, letting the morning air fill his lungs. Birds of every type flew overhead, carrying the breeze with them. Iyumi looked up at the sky with him, how she had missed the warmth of the sun overhead, beaming down on her face. She reached one arm up towards the sun, feeling it fill her body with its energy. Iroh watched as her cheeks flushed with a soft hue of pink, the first bit of color he had seen on this girl's face. 

“Iroh,” the girl asked as she continued to look up at the blue sky, “where are we going?” She let her arm fall back to her side as she looked over to him with anticipation. With a nod of acknowledgment, Iroh answered. 

“We are going to the Fire Nation, where my nephew resides.” Iyumi’s stomach churned into a knot. Her eyes fell down in hesitation as her heart began to race.

“The Fire Nation…” she whispered. Iroh’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to reassure the girl.

“Iyumi, I know you have your fears, and you are very entitled to them. But trust me when I say the Fire Nation has changed. Fire Lord Ozai is gone, Princess Azula is gone. Nothing evil remains of the nation, and all fear has been matched with peace.” Iyumi struggled to find words.

“I believe you Iroh, and I trust what you say. It’s just that…” Iyumi’s voice trailed off. Iroh scooted right next to her, and he caringly reached out his hand over hers.

“Iyumi, I can not expect you to trust the Fire Nation yet. The last hundred years of fear, murder, and damage can not be fixed in one day,” he held her hand tightly, “but we can take it day by day.” He smiled warmly at her, his plump cheeks causing his eyes to squint. Iyumi’s heart rate lowered, and she took a deep breath. Iroh released her hand as he continued to sit beside her. 

“I can’t lie and say I’m not scared… but… I am ready to face the world if I have someone like you by my side…” She shyly smiled as she looked towards the old man. 

“I promise Iyumi, you may not be ready for the world, but the world is ready for you.” The warmth of his smile, the shining sun above, and the hay beneath her filled her with such joy. She extended her arm up and out once more, reaching to touch the rays of the sun. “This is it,” she thought to herself. “This is what happiness feels like…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the notes and help you gave in the first chapter! I hope to add more and make more edits as I learn more about this site! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! It's mostly fluff and jokes, but it's a good set up for their journey into the Fire Nation and into Iyumi's past. 
> 
> Love love love <3  
> \-- Try To Art --


	4. I Won't Be Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iyumi struggles to be out in the real world again, exposing herself and her anxiety.

Iyumi and Iroh continued on their journey, softly laughing to themselves as they tried to make the best of each moment; Iroh sharing all his wisdom, and Iyumi eagerly taking it all in. Iroh told her of the great adventures of the new Avatar, an airbender named Aang, and his fearless crew that ended the war. Before continuing, he lightly chuckled to himself, remarking, “Do you know, I’ve heard this unique crew of earth, fire, water, air, and sword be called?” he paused as he already began to laugh at what he was going to say, “...the ‘Ganng!” He rolled his head back while putting both hands on his stomach, joyously chuckling. “Can you imagine? Oh my,” he wiped a small tear away, “that is just hilarious!” Iyumi gave a half-hearted chuckle, just to humor the man and so he could get back to the adventure. He then told of the master waterbender Katara and her hope for peace. Just a young, inexperienced girl in the Southern Water Tribe turning into a mighty fighter, striking fear into the hearts of her enemies. He recalled the strong, sarcastic Sokka, and his skill with the sword (not to mention his boomerang). A boy who went from a simple man of jokes and meat to a mature warrior and diplomat. He thought back on the tough and crass Toph and her mighty earthbending, matched by no other. An impressive bender from the start, who was truly in touch with the earth (so much so, that she invented a whole new sub-genre of earthbending!) And finally, he told of the banished Prince, Zuko, as his journey back to honor. A young man, who was determined to find his honor in the avatar, found his honor through bringing his father down and restoring peace. Iyumi dared not to breathe too loud so as not to miss a single word the wise man spoke. In a single year, they all changed in ways they never expected; growing, and become stronger with each day. And in a single year, the whole world changed towards peace and prosperity, leaving her behind. In those five years after the war, Iyumi remained alone and disconnected from the world. She wondered how she too would have changed in that single year if she had never run away from home…

Hearing all she had missed, Iyumi grew ever more eager to get out of that cart to see the world. But as they passed through each village and town, and Iroh left to get supplies, Iyumi had to stay in the cart. Though her strength grew, she still couldn’t stand. She begged Iroh to take her, to see the village, the people, the food, the clothes, and jewelry, but he always shook his head and said the same phrase, “I won’t be long.”

On one particular day, Iroh stopped in a small textile village. All around there hung stunning scarves, jewels, robes, and fans. Iyumi's eyes glistened as she looked at all of the ornately designed fashion. The cart came to a rolling stop, and Iroh hopped out the back. Iyumi stayed propped up on that same pile of hay, eagerly looking around the bustling town. But then, without any reason or explanation, she wished to stay in the cart, suddenly pulling a blanket over herself. She slouched down further into the cart, hiding from passers-by. Iroh, while adjusting his robe, noticed, and told the driver to leave and get some feed for the ostrich horse. He placed a few coins in his hand and sent him on his way. Softly, he walked over to the side of the wagon where Iyumi sat and leaned his back against the side. He took a deep breath and tilted his head up at the sky. 

Stroking his beard, he said, “There is nothing to be ashamed of, Lotus,” Iyumi peeked over the side to look at Iroh, keeping her cover-up around her neck.

“I don't know what you're talking about…” She quietly added. Iroh looked down at her over his shoulder, smiling as always. 

“It’s okay, I know you’re a little self-conscious.” The frail woman looked down and away, embarrassed that her fear was shining through. She knew she didn’t look like others, but she had come to terms with that. She had worn a headwrap to cover her hair her entire life, so it wasn’t that. And the scars that lined her body could easily be covered with clothes. An adjustment here, and a tug there, most of them could be covered and replaced by something much prettier. But that’s the thing, that’s what was bothering her. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was embarrassed over her clothes. The once emerald green top was now a brown-green moss color with holes, tatters, and bloodstains. Between not having a sash and losing so much weight, her top hung loosely off her waist and shoulders, almost reaching her knees. The rugged scars that ran from the top of her shoulder down to her elbow were fully out for everyone to see. Her cream pants had holes in the knees, and grass sains covered her butt and the hems of her ankles, not to mention the dirt and grim. She had to tie a knot in the front of the pants to keep them on, so it caused there to be a small bulge where her stomach should be. For a while, she had grown accustomed to her disheveled appearance, but being there in this textile town, seeing the beautiful, elegant women, it made her ashamed of how she looked. Before, her clothes were a tool to cover her scars, then they became a cover against the cold. But now they couldn't do that, they couldn't even hide her in a public town like this. She was exposed, physically, and emotionally in this simple, busy town. 

Iroh softly patted her head. “I am so sorry Iyumi,” he watched as she hid her small body beneath the cover, “I would have gotten you new clothes sooner, but I have no one to help dress you, and I don’t want you to expose yourself to me or anyone else you’re not comfortable with.” Iyumi’s face grew bright red. She was so mad at herself for being shallow enough to be embarrassed over something as meaningless as her appearance. 

“Iroh, please don’t be sorry... I’m sorry for how I’m behaving. I must seem so ungrateful to you and all you have done.” Heat began to radiate from her body, causing Iroh to slightly sweat at the brow as she grew more flustered. “I have no place to be upset over how I look when I am alive and well! And I owe that to you!…” The hay beneath her began to smolder as her hands dug into it. “I can’t express how grateful I am for you saving my life, for taking me out of that forest... my prison of ignorance and fear.” She reached up to his hand, tears in her eyes as her heart began to race, “I beg for your forgiveness. I meant no disrespect for all you have done. You owe me nothing. No clothes, no food, no shelter. And I-” she grabbed the hem of his ripped sleeve, and it immediately caught fire. Ember flames raced quickly up his garment, slightly singeing the hair on his forearm before he put it out with a strong puff of air from his mouth. Iyumi let go as soon as she realized, and she buried her head in her heads. Iroh opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he looked down at Iyumi.

Shaking and rocking where she sat, she whispered to herself, over and over “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” her heart pounded heavily in her chest, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” She could feel her muscles restrict with each shallow breath, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” her mind became blank with nothing but pure panic, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor-” Iroh stopped her with haste.

“Iyumi, dear child please…” he grabbed her shoulders so she would look up at him. She snapped her head up to look into his eyes, becoming overtaken with tears. With concerned eyes and a broken heart, the kind man quietly said “I promise I am not mad, not even remotely." He smiled to reassure her, "You don’t owe me anything, not even an apology.” He noticed a piece of her golden hair had fallen out. “I took you out of that forest to help, and not for another reason.” He tucked the piece gently back into her head wrap while Iyumi looked down ashamed. “Iyumi, you are a beautiful young lady. You have a warmth and passion that shines through the dirt and grime that you think covers your heart. And if someone can’t see that because they can’t get over how you’re dressed, then it is them who is dirty.” With that being said, he patted the girl’s head and gave her a reassuring nod. “Stay here, Lotus. I won’t be long”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just a small glimpse into what it is like to go into a panic attack or to experience anxiety. Sometimes, when someone goes through trauma, they are so afraid to hurt others the same way others have hurt them. For me personally, this comes in the form of saying "sorry" more than I should. In fear of doing something wrong, even something simple, I apologize to stop punishments from coming. In a victim's mind, to say "sorry" is to avoid being hurt, or to make the hurt less impactful. It can be a type of self-defense. And that's what I see it as in this case. She knows Iroh is not mad, but due to past experiences, she wants to be safe rather than sorry. 
> 
> Love love love <3  
> \-- Try To Art --


	5. Outburst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iyumi recalls a painful event from her past, and how it still affects her today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!! TRIGGER WARNING !!!!!!

As Iroh left, Iyumi sank further down into the cart. It had been a good while since she had a panic attack like that, and that was the second time she lashed out at Iroh with her fire. She was so ashamed, so embarrassed that she hurt Iroh like that… that he saw her like that…. She curled up into a small ball, her wound pushing in on itself. She felt it start to ooze blood, seeping out from her bandages, but she didn’t care. “I thought I was past that…” she told herself to herself, “I thought I was out of the forest…” She knew Iroh wasn’t angry or upset, yet she feared the possibility of repercussions from her actions. 

She recalled one day, a short while after she left home. She was making a deal with a traveler from Omashu, trading a snare she made from twine, sticks, and vines for a week's worth of grain. It was routine, simple. She would make something, and travelers would exchange the good for basic supplies. She had traded with a few people earlier that week, and they were beyond kind and understanding. In all honesty, before this, she enjoyed the simple interaction. She would spend her days making baskets, snares, jewelry, and small weapons. And the next day she would wait along the road, trade an item or two for food, shoes, or clothes, and then have a nice conversation with all kinds of people. Just constantly seeing a new smiling face, hearing of their travels, and where they were going next. She envied them but was content with her new life choice. The travelers, merchants, and traders never gave her a problem, so why would this man from Omashu do the same? Besides, he seemed kind enough, and she considered the trade to be a steal. But as she handed him the snare and she went to grab the bag of wheat, he stopped her by grabbing her wrist. She watched as he looked her up and down, slightly smirking. 

Iyumi continued to lay in that cart, her mind sinking deeper into that fearful memory. She recalled his voice... rasp and gravely. He wasn’t much older than her, but she saw how anger and aggression aged his face, causing his eyes to be squintier, and his cheeks to have lines. She ran her hand over her wrist where he grabbed it, still feeling his calloused hands wrap tight around her soft skin. She remembered his breath, hot and heavy as he breathed her name...

“Hey, Iyumi, let’s say we make this deal a bit more fair…” She paused, staring at the man.

“What do you mean?” she took a step away from the man, trying to pull her wrist away. But as she did, he too stepped with her, pressing his chest and manhood firmly into her body.

“I said,” Iyumi watched as he pulled a knife from his side pocket, “let’s make this fair.” Iyumi’s heart began to race, her eyes growing wide in fear. She tried to take another step back, but he met that step by placing the tip of the knife into her back. 

“Take another step back, and you’ll hurt yourself,” he yanked her arm up above her head forcefully and quickly, almost lifting her off the ground. “Don’t make this harder on yourself, sweetheart,” Her eyes began to swell up with tears. She noticed her skin growing hotter and hotter with each second.

“Sir... sir, listen. I don’t want to hurt you. Let me just go and I wil-” he pressed the knife into her back before fully lifting her body off the ground with her arm. He stood at least a foot taller than her, and he spent no energy taking her arm and slinging it to the ground. Her body followed suit as she fell with a hard thud, her face hitting the dirt. He took his foot and placed it on top of her temple, letting his heel push her head deeper into the dirt. 

“Was that a threat, bitch?” He laughed to himself. “Nuh-uh, no. We’re not doing that...” He took his foot off her head and took a step back. He paused to look at her, so small and frail. He watched with anticipation as her chest and shoulders quivered in fear. He licked his lips like a hunter looking at its prey as she wiped the dirt from her face. She looked at him with disgust, and it only drove his desire further. 

With a dead glare and a smirk, he demanded, “Strip for me.” Iyumi looked up at the man in desperation, her eyes begging him to stop. 

“Please I-…” she whimpered. With a quick swing back with his foot, he planted his heel into her side, causing her to double back over her stomach. She gasped for the air that was pushed from her lungs as he grabbed her by the head wrap. He knelt down so his eye reached hers. She tried to avoid eye contact with the man, but that only outraged him more. 

He yanked on her wrap harder, “Look at me when I am talking to you!” Iyumi darted her terrified eyes up at his, and she saw nothing in them. It shook her to the core. They were empty, hollow... void of any sympathy or respect for the young girl. They were a deep grey, filled with a pure animalistic instinct to pleasure himself. He stared into her emerald green eyes, enjoying the fear he put in them. She could feel her throat closing as her heart begged her to sob, but she fought that urge with all she had. “Now…” With one hand he pulled down his pants while lifting up his tunic, his penis erect and throbbing with anticipation. With his other hand, he put the knife near Iyumi’s face, the cold blade pressing up against her cheek “, pleasure me.” 

Iyumi screamed out, struggling to back away, but he forcefully pushed her mouth around his head, down his shaft. He kept both hands on her head wrap, not yet touching her skin, forcing her mouth to go deeper down his veiny cock. She gagged as her soft, subtle lips enclosed around his shaft, his mushroom head hitting the back of her throat. But the man soon yelped out in excruciating pain. He threw her head away with a swift pull of her head wrap, causing bundles of the spun sun to fall around her face. Her saliva was like boiling water against his skin, causing it to bubble and melt as her tongue wrapped around his head. And the knife that he held by her face slid down across her forehead, down her eye, and onto her cheek. She fell back onto her side, hair in her eyes as her heart raced. In desperation, she began to scoot away from him. 

“You fucking bitch!!” he screamed as he fell to his knees. “You’re- you’re Fire Nation! I’ll tell everyone who you are an-” he screamed out in more pain, holding his crotch in his hand, blood puddling around him, “You won’t-” he choked on his own breath from the sheer burning sensation before screaming out, “Aaahhrrrg! You won’t make it another day once they know what you are!”

Iyumi scrambled up from her knees and she ran. Ran as fast as her feet could carry her. Blood fell from her face and into her eye, blinding it as tree by tree flew past. Her golden hair flew behind her, occasionally catching on a branch or vine as she pushed past each tree. She ran until she reached a simple stream. She plunged her hands into the water to cool them off, steam erupting and bubbles forming around them. She longed to reach up and touch the throbbing wound, but she knew it would only lead to her burning herself again. As she calmed her breath, allowing the smooth, cool water to ease her mind, the water around her hands stopped boiling. She finally reached up to her temple and winced as her finger started to slide into the fresh cut. Blood streamed down her hand and to her forearm, falling into the water, drop by drop. Her blonde hair messily wrapped around her arm, carelessly sticking to her wet skin, just turning a bright red that matched the blood that stained her face. Iyumi knelt by the water, letting her hair cover her face, praying no one had followed her. Praying no one would approach her. She was once again reminded of who she was and why she ran away from home... 

Iyumi opened her eyes. She was back in the cart, still laying there, waiting for Iroh to return from the market. Tears streamed down her face in a silent yet steady fashion. She reached up to touch her scar again, trying to shove that memory away to the deepest parts of her mind. “You deserved it you know...” she whispered to herself. Her heart ached for Iroh to return as she was determined to forget… so she sat there, continuing to shake, holding her side. Her muscles contorting more and more, causing every vein in her body to strain. She sunk deeper into that moment by the river, allowing the pain of that memory to completely overtake her. As she held her side, she felt more and more blood ooze from the bandage. The tension of her muscles and the position she put herself in allowed the wound to reopen, causing the days of healing to be torn away. She could feel the blood go beyond the wrap... through her shirt... past the cover... and onto the hay around her. But she still laid there, one hand on her side, one on over her scarred eye. The blood began to pool around the cart floor where she lay. It was warm, smooth, fluid, just like the water by that river. “The river...” she whispered ... she closed her eyes to sleep… just another nap… her body and mind were exhausted... all she wanted to do... was close her eyes... and sleep 

...

...

“Iyumi!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a victim of sexual assault and abuse, it was really hard to write this chapter. But I really think it's needed to explain why she is the way she is. This is just one encounter of so many, and it only took place less than a year from when she left home. There are six years of abuse and trauma this girl has faced, and I can't wait to slowly unpack it all as she grows more custom to her surroundings and friends. 
> 
> If you need someone to talk to or if you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.
> 
> Love love love <3  
> \-- Try To Art --


	6. Can't Give Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Iyumi's mind stays stuck in the forest, Iroh fights to save her life

A desperate, afraid voice called out to Iyumi. Upon seeing the young girl laying in a lake of her own blood, Iroh dropped his basket of goods and sprinted to her side. He swiftly slid into the back of the cart where she stayed. He cradled her close to his chest, turning the girl on her side to get a better look at her wound. Iyumi laid there, eyes closed and quiet, her thoguhts lost again in the woods. Her skin was cold, almost freezing, void of all energy or fire. Iroh’s eyes grew wide in concern as he realized what happened. Her fire had gone out... she lost the fight for the will to live. 

“Iyumi? Iyumi Can you hear me?!” He cried out. Iroh began to undo the bandage around her side, only to see that the scab had pulled itself apart. The old gash was now red and hot with irritation, throbbing to the touch. He pulled her skin tautly, so he could look down into the gaping cut. He saw that the inside was a mushy whitish-pink, puss filling the deepest crevice. The skin around the wound was a crusted yellow, causing the blood to stick and build up a slight mound on the perimeter. 

“Iyumi, Lotus, you have to fight. You didn’t die in the woods for a reason, and you aren’t going to die now.” Iroh looked down at her expressionless face, her head limp against his chest. Passer-bys stopped in their tracks to watch the old man suffer, holding a piece of his heart in his hands. He took a deep breath as he pinched the wound closed, grimacing at what he was about to do. Looking through the bag at his side, he hastily snatched a bottle of saki and pulled the cork out with his teeth. Spatting it to the side, he poured it all over the open area, blood mixing with the alcohol, running down her side and his hand. 

“Forgive me, my Lotus.” He took a deep breath as he brought a flame to his fingertip. He grabbed a metal cup from a bag nearby, and he ran the light torch along the side of the cup. The ellipse of the cool silver cup slowly turned a bright red, the metal starting to char. He took the flame off and lightly blew on it, allowing the smolder to die down. He lined the side of the cup up against the wound, still pinching it closed. With a deep breath and his eyes closed, he pressed the metal firm into her skin, listening to it sizzle as the blood and puss boiled. It was enough to make him grind his teeth. He held for three counts before quickly peeling it away. Her skin outside the wound stuck to the cup, becoming a charred black and red. Iroh set the cup aside as he grabbed a clean cloth, dabbing the sides of her skin. No one helped, they could only watch as Iroh sighed a breath of worried relief. 

He thought back on the many times before when he was General Iroh, warrior of the Fire Nation. He recalled the crying soldiers, gasping for their last breath as he would burn their wounds closed. He recalled how many times a young man, no older than his passed son, would die in his arms, tears falling down their faces in pain, watching the life leave their eyes. The old man never thought he would have to do this again, especially for someone he cared so much for. This young woman with golden hair, so small against his chest, held tight in his arms, had captured his heart in a matter of days... and he was terrified to lose her. Already losing one son, he could not lose a daughter. 

“My dear child, I should’ve gotten you help sooner,” he began to tear up as he brushed a loose lock of hair from her face, “I hope you can forgive me…” He laid her back down on her good side, examining what he had just done to her. What would have been a white line tracing from her ribs to above her side would now be a patch of loose, uneven skin, always red with irritation. To further scar such a beautiful young lady, one who was already covered head to toe, truly broke Iroh’s heart.

He pulled her top back down over the cauterized area, shielding his eyes from the mess he created. He knew what he did saved her life, but guilt still ate at his heart. As he stepped away from her body, her breath steady and calm as ever, he looked down at his hands. They were covered in scarlet tears, staining every bit of skin he could see. Blood seeped into his robe and onto his chest from where he held her against him, and he could feel it starting to dry and stick. With a heavy sigh, he stood and hopped from the wagon. Right at that time, the driver had returned with a few bags of heavy feed. He walked up to Iroh, looking him up and down before throwing the bags to the side. 

“Ya look like shit,” the man remarked. Iroh lightly chuckled the pain he felt in his chest away as he tried to adjust his robe. 

“Believe it or not, my good man, I have looked far worse,” he responded. The driver lightly laughed as he looked over to the cart, examining the passed out girl. 

“Damn, what the hell happened to her? She get attacked?” the man scoffed. Iroh stroked his beard as he approached the side of the man.

“No,” he sighed, “I don’t think that's what happened. I think she just…” he took a pause, looking back to Iyumi, “gave up on herself.” He grabbed the man’s shoulder, holding it tight. Looking into his eyes, he sternly instructed, “Feed the animal and get ready to go. We’re not stopping again until we reach the palace.” The driver raised a brow at his request but began to pick up the feed as soon as Iroh let him go. 

Iroh walked back over to the bags and baskets he dropped earlier, picking up the scattered food, spices, and medicine. And as he got to the last of the items, he found a half-wrapped item, it’s golden color shining in the sun. He gently picked it up, fully unraveling it to check its condition. In his hand, Iroh held a golden pin with an ornate lotus in the center, emerald jewels lining each petal, shimmering just like her eyes. He rotated it, looking at the fine wire spilling from the sides of the flower, like a waterfall, holding the smallest of rubies on its tips. It was as beautiful and fragile as the girl, but just as resilient and outstanding. He bought it for her to pin onto her head wrap, to remind her that she is as precious as gold, as beautiful as emeralds, and as strong as rubies. He dusted the dirt off its petals, lightly blowing on it before playing it back in the cloth and wrapping it back up. He gently slid it into a hidden pocket inside his robe, avoiding the blood on his chest before placing the rest of the goods into the cart. Iroh followed suit and hopped in, immediately sitting next to the girl. He gently rotated her off her side and laid her flat on her back, allowing her head to rest in his lap. He placed two fingers onto her neck, feeling her pulse. Still steady, still calm. 

The driver jumped onto his seat as he wiped the reins of the animal, signaling it to run as they left that simple town. Dust flew behind its wheels as Iroh continued to hold her head. 

“A few more days Iyumi,” he pulled her top back over her shoulder, “...just hang on for a few more days. I’m not ready to give up on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this a few days earlier, I apologize for all the grammar issues there were! I should’ve double checked before posting (my b). 
> 
> Tell me, do you think Iroh would have reacted this way? If not, how could you see him reacting? 
> 
> He’s like a concerned father, but he can put on a calm exterior in the face of adversity and fear. 
> 
> Once again, thank you all for the love and support. 
> 
> Love love love <3  
> — Try To Art —


End file.
